St. George's Day deserves a dragon story, and I've opened Thrice Valiant up for public access. This is my first short story. It isn't perfect, but it is funny. It was written twenty years ago after my first six months as a wage slave, just as I was realising that people who claim to be heroes often - usually - aren't.

Once upon a time there was a man working in the RAF as a radio and radar specialist turning the science fiction of the time into reality. He bought a book, read it, wrote 'wow' in a dozen places in the margins, put it in his kitbag and forgot about it. Twenty years later a fourteen year old kid found his Dad's copy of Childhood's End in the loft and stayed there reading it till his torch ran out. The result was a lasting passion for Science Fiction in all its forms.

Arthur C. Clarke died today. I hope that one day I can see a fraction as far as he did.